The dryness in his mouth, the tearing sensation in his body, and the heat coursing through his veins.
The pain feedback from various parts of his body sharpened Roy's mind.
Unable to hold back, he let out a few pitiful cries, "Arghhh..."
"Since it's already begun, just grit your teeth and hold on until the end, Master."
Seeing Roy's intense reaction, the Count in the Prison Tower felt a twinge of worry.
...
The Outside World.
From the sleeping Roy's mouth came murmurs of dreams, and the sweat pouring down his forehead had soaked his entire face. Accompanied by slight spasms of his body, the faint blue outlines of magic circuits on his skin gradually became visible.
The beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, along with his twisted expression, caused the Count, standing beside Roy, to feel anxious.
He wiped the sweat from Roy's forehead with a freshly washed towel. Although he still wore his usual poker face, the cigarette butts scattered at his feet showed his current state of mind well.
He appeared calm, but in reality, he was quite flustered, deeply concerned about his Master's condition.
Watching the magic circuits beginning to surface on Roy's body, the continuous murmurs and his contorted face made the Count increasingly anxious.
"Master... hang in there..."
As a Servant, he could certainly recognize what the faint blue outlines appearing on Roy's body were.
Magic Circuits.
These are the innate sources of magical power for a magus.
They are also a unique organ of the magus, serving the simple purpose of converting life force into magical energy. Without these nerve-like organs, a magus cannot use magic.
Similarly, the number and quality of magic circuits reflect a magus's aptitude, as the number and quality are determined at birth. A significant part of a magus's achievements in magic also depends on this aptitude.
Since Roy had formed a contract with him, the Count could peer into his memories or dreams.
The primary purpose of deliberately bringing his Master into the Prison Tower was to ask another version of himself to help Roy open his magic circuits.
The Count understood clearly that his Master would never be mediocre; he simply needed an opportunity and experience to become a true strong person.
Though sending him into the Prison Tower was quite cruel, he had no other choice now.
If he couldn't steel himself, the fate awaiting him would only be death.
Roy was unable to supply the magical power he needed, and for a Servant, what value is there in a Master who cannot supply magic? Had it not been for his inherent skill of Self-Replenishment, which allowed him to restore his magical power independently, he might not have even lasted until today.
Having a Servant that already consumed a lot of magic paired with a Master who couldn't supply magic was undoubtedly adding insult to injury. Because of Roy's limitations, the Count's strength could barely be exerted at one-fifth of its capacity, and Roy had no means to counter the attacks of other magus.
Other than some street fighting methods, he had no other skills, and in this state, he couldn't display his strength. If this continued, by the time the Holy Grail War began, they would undoubtedly be the group that suffered the most brutal defeat.
Thus, he realized clearly that continuing like this would only lead to slow death.
Rather than waiting here for death, it was better to send Roy in and fight for it.
Even though the Prison Tower was a place known as hell in the world, housing death row inmates who had committed heinous crimes, it was hell and also a convergence of all suffering. The dark fortress contained all the pain and despair, from which prisoners could not escape...
But... unable to escape?
The Count gazed softly at the boy lying on the bed and raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
There is no prison in the world from which one cannot escape, nor is there truly a hopeless predicament.
Even the Prison Tower is not exempt.
At least one person had escaped from there, and the method of escape was right in front of him...
That prison could not contain the King of the Caves, nor could it contain his Master, so...
"Don't worry, Master; I won't let anything happen to you."
...
"Arggghhhh..."
Pain surged through him from various senses, causing Roy to emit a series of piercing howls. Although he didn't understand magic, it was clear that the Count's reckless method of opening the circuits was unreliable.
The way of forcibly pouring magical power into his body to break the shackles and open the magic circuits was something he had never heard of. When he saw Shirou Emiya opening his magic circuits in his past life, it had definitely not been this painful.
This feeling was far more intense than being stabbed a few times.
As the ritual continued, the intense heat in his body increased, and the pain made Roy begin to doubt whether the Count really understood how to develop magic circuits.
That line about him being just a vengeful spirit and not a real magus, and that he wouldn't be responsible if anything went wrong, was now proving true.
"Arghh…"
Heart-wrenching wails escaped from his mouth. Regardless of whether it was the outside world or the dream, his body was already drenched in cold sweat. Seeing this, the Count beside him frowned and shouted.
"Hang in there! Endure it! Don't succumb to the pain in your body. Use the steel will that erupts in dire situations to conquer this suffering and complete your revenge against yourself."
"Mmm, who understands what you're saying..." Roy retorted through gritted teeth.
Could such immense pain really be compensated for by sheer willpower?
Fortunately, the duration of this pain wasn't long, only the longest few minutes of his life, and then the agony began to ebb like a tide.
Seeing Roy, who had consumed all his magical energy and was about to collapse, the Count quickly stepped forward to support him.
Lowering his head to observe the faintly visible ten or so blue circuits emerging on Roy's body, he nodded in satisfaction.
At this moment, Roy's magic circuits had been activated; he had taken the first step into the world of magecraft.
Similarly, the Count, who had formed a master-servant contract with Roy, could feel a significant supply of magical power coming from both the dream and the outside world. It was quite a decent amount of magical energy.
For the Count in the outside world, this was his first experience of receiving magical power from his Master, aside from eating and his self-recovery skill.
"Well done, Master!"
"This impressive amount of magical energy indicates that the magic circuits are highly efficient at converting life force into magical power. Although the quantity isn't astonishing, the quality is quite good... I didn't expect this reckless method to succeed on the first try."
Succeeded on the first try?
If it had failed, were you prepared to try several more times?
Thinking of this, Roy's expression darkened.
If he had to endure this torture a few more times, he would surely pass out from the pain.
"You did very well, Master. I saw the will you unleashed in your desperate situation."
The Count, having witnessed everything, clapped his hands in satisfaction and praised Roy, "The iron will that erupted in your dire situation overcame the pain of your body; it was like launching a revenge against your past self."
"To use the will that erupted from desperation to conquer your past self, to be reborn, and complete your revenge against yourself... truly splendid! Krahahahaha!"
What do you understand about this?
Seeing the Count's constant shouting and enthusiasm, Roy wanted to retort, but the pain and weakness feedback from his body rendered him speechless.
Even while holding onto the Count, his legs and feet couldn't stop trembling. Summoning what little spirit he had left, he asked, "Are we heading straight to the Judgment Room on the first floor next? By the way, can I take a break first? I feel like I could pass out at any moment."
Upon hearing this, the Count simply laughed heartily and nodded, "Of course, your soul entered through the door voluntarily; you're not a prisoner here. Your words won't be restricted in this place."
"The Prison Tower can't hold you. If you want to come, then come; if you want to leave, then leave. You can naturally leave at any time."
"But remember, your ticket is only valid for this Holy Grail War. Once your connection with that version of me is severed, you won't be able to come and go freely anymore."
"Hmm? Then... what you said before about not being able to escape..."
"Krahahahaha, of course, I was just kidding. If I didn't cut off your retreat, how could I make you erupt in adversity?"
Seeing Roy's expression darken, the Count couldn't help but laugh, raising his hand to pat Roy's back with a joyful expression, which only made Roy's face grow even darker.
"Don't blame me, Master. These are all things the other me asked me to tell you. He said that if I didn't say it this way, you would find it hard to struggle wholeheartedly!"
"You all schemed against me!"
"Don't be angry! In any case, the result is quite good. Master, have a good rest, and see you later."
Noticing Roy's fatigue, the Count stopped teasing him. He slowly raised his hand and struck the back of Roy's neck, using a swift chop to help him physically fall into a light sleep. Then he took off his cloak and draped it over Roy, helping him sit up as comfortably as possible.
In a daze, Roy heard the Count's final farewell.
"Take a short rest, Master."
"Until we meet again, my accomplice."
...
The Outside World.
When Roy awoke again, the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was the Count, who had been guarding his bedside all night.
However, this time, what he touched was reality.
What met his eyes was no longer that gloomy, damp prison tower but his warm and familiar little house.
"Hey, you're awake, Master! You've slept for a full two days and two nights. Youth really is great, you can just fall asleep anywhere!"
"Hmm?"
Seeing the green fellow at the bedside joking with him, Roy instantly felt anger bubbling up and couldn't be bothered to respond. He casually grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and threw it at him.
"Huh?"
The Count, noticing Roy still looked vigorous and lively, couldn't help but smile slightly. With a relieved heart, he easily caught the pillow Roy threw and shook his head, saying, "You really do wake up in a bad mood."